(no subject)
The familiar feeling of steel against flesh
is so close I can taste it.
So close, yet so far.
If only this razor could dance along my forearm like it used to.
Leaving footprints of red wherever it stepped.
When the milky white stage iss covered,
another pallet is chosen.
Tears flowing down my cheeks,
pain rushing through my bones.
My beautiful depression’s next victim is my heart;
for I am slowly wasting away.
I need to see the tears of red my arm pours out to be real.
I need to know that I exist.
For in my mind, I am nothing.
But in the hands of this blade, I am needed.
The ice cold kisses my skin.
Quickly, slowly
harshly, sweetly.
For this razor blade is my only true friend.
But it will soon cause my end.
is so close I can taste it.
So close, yet so far.
If only this razor could dance along my forearm like it used to.
Leaving footprints of red wherever it stepped.
When the milky white stage iss covered,
another pallet is chosen.
Tears flowing down my cheeks,
pain rushing through my bones.
My beautiful depression’s next victim is my heart;
for I am slowly wasting away.
I need to see the tears of red my arm pours out to be real.
I need to know that I exist.
For in my mind, I am nothing.
But in the hands of this blade, I am needed.
The ice cold kisses my skin.
Quickly, slowly
harshly, sweetly.
For this razor blade is my only true friend.
But it will soon cause my end.